What He Doesn't Know
by myredrazzlevest
Summary: Something goes bump in the night for singer Adam Lambert.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story doesn't depict any actual events.

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If it had been his choice, he would've never gotten up at such an ungodly hour. But then again, he was being a hypocrite. Two in the morning would've felt anything except ungodly if he had been out partying. It probably would've seemed too early to even go home. However, this was a Monday morning and the pinching pain in his shoulder was definitely not something to party about.

He had staggered into the bathroom, trying not to move his right arm and agitate his shoulder, and trying not to make noise, and trying to get around in the dark. The bandages were in the bottom drawer off to the left, practically under the second sink. He made for the drawer a little too fast and clumsily with his untrained hand, smashing it into the very drawer he was attempting to open. A swear word dropped caustically in the unnerving silence that was two in the morning.

The bathroom light was flicked on, bringing an end to his uncoordinated search.

"What're you looking for? What's wrong?"

Adam squinted, his hand now clutching at his shoulder. He nodded over to the drawer. "I'm looking for a Band-Aid," he practically growled, the light having startled him.

"Are you sure that's what you need?" Sauli asked; he reached up and pulled the other's hand away.

"I need something," Adam quipped back, annoyed.

"Alcohol," Sauli murmured, quickly going for another drawer. For someone who had just woken up, he was surprisingly well-tempered and efficient. He stopped mid-mission and turned to Adam. "You should sit," he advised. "And don't touch it."

Adam complied, wincing as he sat on the edge of the tub. He glanced up at the mirror for the first time since he had entered the bathroom. He nearly choked on his inhale. There, on his right shoulder, normally smooth alabaster, was a splattering of blood – his blood. He turned the hand he had been clutching his shoulder with over stiffly. It looked as if he had pressed it into red paint and was planning to leave his handprint on a piece of paper. Adam rubbed two of his fingers together, some of the dry blood cracking and crumbling to the floor. He stared up at his partner confusedly.

"What the fuck happened?"

Sauli shrugged, dousing a spare towel with alcohol. He handed the towel to Adam, capping the bottle. "I can't even begin to guess. Put that towel on. Do you want to go to the emergency room?"

Adam dabbed the towel against his shoulder, cringing each time at the burn. He replied through clenched teeth, "No, I can't give the media ammunition right now. How do you think this is going to look? How am I going to explain _this_?" He moved his shoulder dramatically, then jumped at the pain and receded to dabbing.

Sauli looked on at him sadly, before joining him on the tub. He took the towel away. "But you might need stitches. Ready?"

"Well I can't even see what happened. I'll go in if it's bad. And yes."

Sauli gripped Adam's arm, slowly pressing the alcohol-drenched piece of cloth to his shoulder. His already sullen face fell as he watched the other's agonized reaction. He turned his head away as Adam spat a few deserved, yet impulsive obscenities. When the swearing had died down, he started to wipe the blood off. The wound was quite small for having created such an alarming amount of blood. Sauli could barely see it, but if he looked close enough and moved Adam's arm in just the right light – a practically miniscule gash in a circular shape appeared.

"What do you think happened?"

Adam shook ever so slightly, the alcohol having added to the bite of the wound. "I've no idea. This is fucked up and beyond odd," he snapped, hands clawing the rim of the tub. He hadn't seen the injury; for all he knew, it was an unruly cut.

"I don't think you need stitches, though," Sauli added thoughtfully, finishing up. "Maybe sleepwalking?"

"When have I ever been sleepwalking?"

Sauli stood, and Adam was relieved to see him take the towel away. "Just trying to think of a reason." He was digging through yet another drawer. "It's too strange."

Adam had snatched up the box of bandages as soon as Sauli sat down. The blond grabbed them back, shaking his head, smiling. Adam gazed on at him impatiently, but slowly felt the corners of his mouth curling as well.

"Well, what're we going to do?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm going back to sleep," Adam chided, his sour mood appearing to have dissolved right into thin air.

Sauli picked out the biggest bandage in the entire box. "I think that's fine," he declared, tearing the package open. "But now I'm worried about you."

"I'll be fine," Adam haphazardly assured him.

Sauli pasted the bandage on, giving it a few careful pets to make sure it stayed on. "Aren't you a little suspicious?" He asked in a low tone, staring down at his hands as he crumpled the rubbish.

"Of course," Adam laughed nervously. "But what am I going to suspect did this?"

"The supernatural," Sauli laughed, although his was in earnest. "What's it called again? A werewolf?"

"Sure, let's go with that," Adam said with a grin. "That sounds valid, between you and me. Because this is only going to_ be_ between you and me."

The blond stood again, going about the bathroom, cleaning up. He was oblivious to Adam's gaze, he was so focused. He had ignored the other, not because he was rude, but because it was something he felt they didn't need to discuss. The towel was tossed into the hamper, the drawers closed, the alcohol stashed away. Sauli was washing his hands when he glanced over his shoulder.

"You okay?"

Adam nodded, seeming to have been lost in thought. He blinked his way out of his reverie. "Yeah, it's nothing." He made his way to the sink, washing the blood off his own hands. "I only hope when I wake up tomorrow, I'm hung over, and this has just been one fucked up dream."

Sauli was already back in the bedroom. "Me too."


End file.
